


Here's To My Love

by wuwu



Series: davekats [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family Drama, Fights, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, M/M, Pre-Relationship, its just rnj its the fucking rnj au nobody asked for, romeo and juliet - Freeform, will add more tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:19:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuwu/pseuds/wuwu
Summary: Hatred, violence, love, loss, forgiveness; the city of Verona seems to carry an air of undeniable tragedy. With the feuding of two households, two children become star crossed lovers, trapped in an unfortunate contention that costs them their lives. Their love is doomed by a war lost to time, waged by adults blinded by their own brutality. ‘Tis a tale honoring the sacrifices made by those known as Strider and Vantas.





	Here's To My Love

**Author's Note:**

> idk how many ppl have written this so if its overdone im sorry !!! but also yea this is just. romeo and juliet but davekat lol also they say Fuck because shakespeare needs some bad words

A beautiful city full of lavish buildings, a strong citizenship, and united under the leadership of Prince English—Verona seems to be a perfect destination for those looking for a place of settlement. However, though it may seem harmonious, it is home to a long standing feud between two houses. Where one can find a servant of Strider, one may also find a servant of Vantas, each locked in a hostility that welcomes the clattering of metal and the drawing of blood.

Nobody can ever decide who starts the arguments, nor does anybody ever recall who pushes a petty comment too far. Fingers are pointed, thumbs are bitten, and swords are drawn. Four men seem to be contending at the present moment, though only one is recognizable to the young John Egbert.

“Abram!” he calls out. Rather than pause as he expected, Abram continues to squabble with the men, shouting profanities that can just barely pass as being civilized. Two men wearing uniforms of the Vantas house pull out their swords, and John rushes as he sees Abram and the other servant pull out their own. “Enough fighting! Put your swords away! You’re just going to get yourselves in trouble, you know.” He’s shoved against the wall in the fray, shoulder blades colliding with the harshness of stone.

“That’s rich,” a voice laughs from behind. John turns, hand clutching at his scabbard as he flinches. A man of Vantas. Fantastic. “You seem ready to fight yourself, my friend.” He’s much, much taller than John with hair that seems to swallow the sun whole. It fans out in fiery waves, and the man holds a calm expression that sends chills up his spine. John thinks he recognizes him to be a Makara, a loyal family connected to Vantas.

“Gamzee, you know that things aren’t like that with me,” John protests. He crosses his arms, sure to show off the hilt of his sword, untouched. “I’m just trying to keep the peace. You should put your sword away, too, or use it to help me calm them down. Prince English is cracking down on these fights, and I don’t think he’d like to see more bloodshed on his streets.”

The boy turns back to the scuffle, hands raised as he tries to come between the warring groups. He twists and contorts his body in order to avoid the tip of a blade, and it proves to be increasingly difficult as the men only get more fired up with their weapons. An edge nicks the skin of his throat, drawing tiny beads of blood. He huffs and takes a step back, looking to Gamzee to see if he’ll step in as well.

Gamzee sneers. “You wanna talk about peace, little man? You wanna be starting fights in these streets, waving your damn sword around, and talk about _peace_? To hell with peace.” He takes a step toward John, hand clutching the hilt of his sword with a strength that leaves him quivering. “That’s all you damn Striders ever like to talk about, huh? Try and make us out to be the bad guys? I’ll show you some motherfucking peace.”

John steps to the side, raising his hands once more. “Gamzee, I’m not trying to fight you! I’m not trying to fight anybody!” He squeaks as he jumps, feet dodging a hit to his ankles. “Please, put your sword down. I don’t want to—” Gamzee smacks him with the front of the blade, hitting the boy hard on his shoulder as it bears down. It does no slashing damage, but it holds a weight that leaves John frozen.

“I ain’t lookin’ to make amends,” he drawls. “I’m here to settle this damn feud once and for all. Now draw your sword, or keep your mouth shut while I slice you up.” Gamzee cocks an eyebrow, lips curling up as John hurriedly draws his weapon. He holds it in front of him, one arm positioned in front of his chest as his feet spread. “Perfect.”

With a swiftness that leaves John disoriented, Gamzee uses his strength and raises his hands, pulling the weight of the metal down with a ferocity that has John stumbling back as his own blade blocks the blow. He staggers as he cowers, eyes darting around to look for cover. His opponent leaves him no time to strategize, for Gamzee is already kicking a foot out to trip the boy into the gutter. John collapses, but before he can draw blood he rolls to the side, careful to keep his sword above him to catch any stray hits.

“S-Stop! We don’t have to fight!” John shouts. He scrambles to his knees, two hands on the hilt of his sword as he holds it in front of him. He’d rather not resort to such violence, what with Prince English patrolling the streets to catch quarrels like this. Lord knows Strider would have his head if he got in more trouble.

“Too late for that,” Gamzee _tuts_ , grin alight. A crowd begins to form around them, each person shouting out their favor for one house over the other. Some try and break the servants apart, others rallying behind John, but Gamzee focuses on the cheers for him—for _Vantas_. “We done got ourselves a whole crowd, John. They wanna be entertained.”

As he draws his sword once more, arms raised above his head with a madness in his eyes, the head of Vantas steps forward, followed by one of his pages.

“Captor, fetch me my sword,” he orders. He holds his hands out expectantly, skin soft and young through lack of hardship. He has an arrogance to his face that leaves many tired of him, however he commands a family that spanned generations before even the oldest men in the city. Kankri Vantas holds power over a fleet of dedicated followers, though he lacks the years meant for a rigorous leader.

“Sir, you shouldn’t be fighting on the streets like this,” the page, Sollux Captor, says from behind a scroll. Kankri scoffs at him, peering out as he sees Strider and his second-in-command come forward as well.

“Need I repeat myself? Bring. Me. My. Sword.” Eyes narrowing out to the crowd, Kankri rolls his eyes. Sollux takes a few steps back, but makes no move to fetch any weapons.

From across the street, the head of Strider stands his ground. He’s a wise man, though not nearly old enough to hold the power that he does. Crows feet tarnish his eyes, but his limbs are young and juvenile, strengthened by years of sparring.

“They’re always stirring up trouble,” he sighs. None know his name, though many know his story. He’d taken his family’s fortune from his parents, fighting back against their familial tyranny and keeping the household at peace once they’d been slayed. It was a fight that spanned years, but with their growing frailty, they’d been easily defeated. He now keeps the Strider wealth alive with the help of his youngest sibling, a girl by the name of Rose.

“I don’t advise you to join in,” she says with thought. Rose glances through her peripherals, lips souring into a frown as she shifts her weight onto one foot. “It seems the Prince has found his way here.”

A carriage makes its way down the street, pulled by a singular horse driven by an escort. Prince Jake English, a young man with a taste for such scuffles, pulls up and hops from where he previously sat. (Well, stood. Though not proper carriage riding practice, he’d been eager to see what the commotion was about.) A crown adorns his head, pushing down soft tufts of dark hair, with jewels glimmering in the morning sun. His clothes are fanciful, a harsh gold that contrasts beautifully with the tan of his skin, and his legs are easy to follow as they dart toward danger.

“So it would seem,” Strider agrees. He clenches his teeth.

“Alright, enough, enough!” He shouts out. The crowd parts for him, the servants break up, and John hurriedly skips closer toward Strider and Rose as the Prince approaches. His brows, thick and neat, arch down in frustration. “You lot just love a fight, don’t you? I’m not one for sitting around, either, but this is just absurd!” The majority of the crowd let their own weapons fall, including the servants, but John and Gamzee simply sheath theirs in their scabbards. Jake points toward Kankri. “There’s been far too many riots,” he says, shifting his focus onto Strider, “because you two can’t stop your damned squabbling! I’ve had enough of it! If either of you cause a scene like this again, you’ll be put to death.” A hush falls over the crowd.

“Prince English—” John speaks up.

“That is final,” he decides. “Now, everyone take your leave before you’re caught under disobedience.” Jake turns his gaze toward Kankri once more. “Vantas, you are to come with me. And Strider,” he calls out, “you are to meet me this afternoon in Free-town for judgement. Now, everyone begone lest you wish for your demise.”

The crowd thins out as Jake surveys his people, shaking his head softly as guards only now begin to show up. They escort citizens away from the scene and down the street, spears held parallel to their suits.

John holds his head down as Strider folds his arms against his chest, peering down disapprovingly.

“Care to share anything, John?”

He sighs. “Your servants and those from Vantas were fighting again,” John tells him. “It started before I got there, so I don’t really know who was the cause. I just wanted them to stop fighting, but then Gamzee showed up, and he _really_ didn’t want to help me, and then he wanted to kill me, so I drew my sword, and—”

“Summarize, John,” Rose says.

“I don’t know who started it, but I had to fight to protect myself, okay!” John kicks at the ground with his shoe, sending dirt flying up in a cloud. “It’s not like I was _trying_ to get Prince English involved.”

Strider waits a few beats before answering, all of which send John into a spiral of anxiety. “You did well,” is all he says.

“Thank God Dave wasn’t here,” Rose mentions. “You know how he gets when people begin to strife.”

“Yeah,” John nods, “I actually haven’t seen him today, though. Well, I saw him earlier this morning while I was taking a walk, but he didn’t really feel like talking.” Strider hums. “I didn’t wanna bother him too much, so I just left him alone. I hope he isn’t getting in trouble himself…”

“I doubt it,” Strider grits out. “That boy’s been useless lately. He’s just been crying and moping in his room this past week. Won’t even tell me what’s wrong.” John smiles at that.

“He won’t tell you?”

“No, and I’ve tried asking,” Strider continues with a solemn tone. “Always keeping those damned secrets of his. You’d think with all the attention he’s bringing to himself that he’d learn to appreciate it.”

John leans to the side, using his tiptoes to see over Strider’s shoulder. He grins widely.

“Oh! It’s Dave!” He stands flat on the ground, waving off any doubts of Strider’s with his hand. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, don’t worry Sir. Dave will be back in all his Strider glory soon enough!” He crosses his index and middle fingers in lieu of a promise, smiling with his teeth as Strider mimics the gesture.

“Thanks, John,” he nods. Without a word, Strider begins his trek down the street so as to avoid Dave, and Rose follows along with ease. Their steps are matched, and John watches as Rose tilts her head up to tell him something. They look regal as they stroll, but he knows better than anyone just how little they know about acting proper. The house of Strider is prone to sparring sessions and goofing off, mainly because of the youth of its people. John thinks it’s rather nice.

Dave slows to a stop as he nears John, and the latter bumps shoulders with him. “Morning, Dave.”

Rubbing his fingers beneath his eyes, Dave lets out a yawn. “It’s still early?”

“What do you mean? It’s only nine,” John answers. He takes a step forward, walking toward nothing, and he’s grateful when Dave follows without protest.

Dave clicks his tongue. “Was that Bro just now?”

“Yeah, he and Rose were hanging out, I guess,” John shrugs. He doesn’t bring up the fight. “Did you wanna talk to him?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” Dave says, fingers pinching at the fabric of his hood. He bites the inside of his cheek, teeth gnawing against the soft of its tissue. “Kind of the opposite, actually.” He pauses mid step, head turning downward. He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it once he realizes he’s got nothing worthwhile to say.

“Dave, you can’t let him get to you like that,” John frowns. He grabs at either side of Dave’s face, fingers leading his gaze so they can lock eyes. Dave stares at him through the shoddy tint on his glasses, lips squished through a firm grip. “Put your foot down! You’re your own person, man.”

“No, it’s not—” Dave pulls John’s hands away, mouth set as he furrows his brows. “Bro didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just. Like. Ugh, I don’t know!” He opens his fists with haste, hands flying up to run through his hair. “It’s a girl, okay? She isn’t… interested in me. I’m not really lookin’ forward to having big boy conversations yet.”

“Oh, Dave,” John says with an exhale. “You’re a real softie, y’know?” Dave rolls his eyes. “Being in love isn’t all that fun. It hurts, huh.”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed! I was in love, too,” John nods. “Back when I was just learning how to fight, there was this one—”

“John, I really am not in the mood,” Dave groans. “I’m just. Kind of pissed, I guess. Not at her, but like, ‘cause things suck. Whatever.” His eyes wander, settling on the growing stain against his skin. “What happened to you here?” He goes to swipe the blood away, but John ducks his head down, hand going to rub at the nape of his neck.

“Ah, well…”

“Did you fight with the Vantases again? Really, John?” John squawks in his defense, but nothing coherent comes out. With Strider he’s a bit more dignified, but Dave leaves him sputtering. He’s always got his guard down with him. “This whole warring houses thing is stupid.”

“No, I know that, Dave,” John finally says.

“Can’t we all just be chill? My parents are dead, the head of Vantas was replaced by some new asshole, and the Prince is tired of our bullshit. None of us even know why the hell we’re still fighting!” John tries to interject, but Dave cuts him off. “Oh, I know! It’s cause we’re all pricks who just love to fuck shit up. We hate to love, but we love to hate. It’s nonsense, John. Absolute tomfoolery.” The younger boy snickers into his fist. “Oh, come on, are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing _at_ you,” John denies. “It’s just… That was kind of sweet? You just don’t look like the kind of guy that, well, _cares._ ” Dave flicks his forehead. “That’s not a bad thing, Dave. Maybe it’ll give you some luck in love.” Ah, sore subject.

Oh yeah, for sure,” he says with a void laugh. He pauses, taking a breath through his nose and exhaling with his mouth. “Look, clearly I’m a depressed sack of shit, so I’ll just go and hang out somewhere else I guess.” Dave takes a few steps forward before John is pulling him by the arm.

“Dave, you don’t have to leave,” he disagrees. “Let’s just talk it out. Try and get your mind off of her, okay?”

“I dunno, Egbert…”

“Just tell me who this mystery girl is,” John prods. “I wanna help you, but I also just wanna know! You can’t keep secrets from me!” John loosens his grip on Dave’s arm, but it strengthens once he moves his hands to his biceps, shaking the blond with fervor.

“You’re _suuuuuuch_ an asshole, dude,” Dave says, sticking his tongue out. “But, if you’d be so inclined, I would tell you that she’s like, only the prettiest girl in Verona.”

“That’s not a real answer and you know it.”

“Well, what do you want me to say? She’s gorgeous, and she’s sweet, but she’s pretty much impossible to win over,” Dave smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. It stains his face, leaving lines of regret that are sure to age poorly. “Cupid ain’t got a target on her.”

“What are you even talking about.” John flicks his sunglasses up, causing Dave’s pupils to focus on his face out of necessity.

“She’s taken a vow of chastity, okay? God.” Dave scrunches his nose up and pushes his glasses back down, eyes settling on a sign in the distance instead. “Celibate. Abstinent but like, hardcore mode.”

John mulls it over before jumping back, arms raised to the sky. “Just forget about her!”

“Oh my word, you’re a genius,” Dave says with false wonder. “Why didn’t I think of that. Poof she’s gone.”

“Ugh, you’re such a drama queen,” John says, blowing a raspberry. “Just find someone else to swoon over. You’re all romanced up, so surely you’re desperate for love, right?”

“Being desperate is different from being willing.” Dave continues walking, ignoring the hops John does to catch up. “There’s just nobody like her, John. I’ll look at someone else and just see her. She’s perfect. It’s like, nobody else can compare.”

“Dave—”

John pauses when Dave puts a hand on his chest, stopping him from growing any closer. “It’s nice that you wanna help, and I appreciate it, but it just won’t work.” He leans more weight onto John before turning on his heel and continuing down the street. His hood shifts in the wind, cape fluttering as the breeze carries it.

“I’ll make you forget about her if it’s the last thing I do!” John shouts back.

**Author's Note:**

> yea dave has sunglasses what about it !!! glasses were invented in like 1300 so,,, we can pretend they invented sunglasses back then too
> 
> find me on twitter @karkatcore !!


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